It's Wabbit Season (Solo)

by **Aello** on November 2nd, 2012, 4:28 pm

Timestamp: Fall 1, 512 AV
Location: Somewhere between Syliras and Ravok

Muddied irises settled upon blades which sloped softly into tears. Their jagged teeth torn at the roots, that which swayed softly in the breeze, and led into twisted veins. Coiled snakes with scales the shade of pine's needles, which slithered from a single, central nest. Branches torn, splayed, so that they formed single wall. Running up and down the length. Leaves hung limply beneath the weight of recent rain; transparent beads casually cascading over the brink. Running off the edge towards dried, shriveled beads of brown, packed roughly beneath the worn soles of a huntress' leather boots. Creaking as pebble and course debris were pushed beneath the surface of uneven terrain. Coming to a slope with shallow rise, before it dipped towards the center of the earth. Buried beneath the roots, searching for the remnants of loftier ideals; an air which no longer lingered between the strands. Shards of ethereal embraces which their branches never stretched far enough to reach; scrape off a bleached navy sky, grown clear as Zulrav's pursed lips, spewing incessant hiss, pressed them onwards, and away. Through that which remained cool and transparent, the scent of mud and crushed leaves, dying as the first frost kissed, reached the nose of the huntress. It scrunched unpleasantly a moment, almost subconsciously as her eyes continued to seek, taking note of the subtle rustling of the foliage as the breeze continued to sweep through all that surrounded. Invisible threads strumming the fronds of tanning grasses as though they were the strings of a harp or perhaps a guitar. They were beginning to wilt now that the sun had moved onto other lands, leaving them cast in shadow. The girl's ears prickled as she listened; remembering clearly each note that nature managed to hit, minding the classical music crafted for what seemed to be, her ears alone.

For the vaporous tendrils which rose from the center of the world excavated nothing. Nor had they for the several chimes she had spent searching. Filling the woman with a sense of unease; enough to make her heart to drum out a hurried tune by which she could march as she continued her hunt. Her thumbs idly stroking the wire hilts of the daggers she bore. The cursed weight dragging as the bloodied metal sparkled in the sun's receding rays. The end of the supple wooden curve of her father's old bow tapping her side, as her bag gently thumped against her back. Arrows sloshing around the rim of his old leather quiver, clicking softly, if she paused a moment to truly listen. Aello moved on, her body weaving its way in and out of a line of trees. Her breathing growing shallow, forcing her to double her level of concentrate. Taking the time to hold her breath in her lungs, before she allowed herself to release it.

Where have all you petching animals gone? the huntress wondered as her heels dug into the earth. And why am I the one constantly searching for wherever it is they hide? her mind added as she kept her eyes peeled. Turning her head from left to right, just in case something lingered just around the bend. Why is it that I'm always the one who has to leave those group of lazy petchers, to find food? Why can't they get up off their fat arses and petching gather some berries if it please their lordly bellies? Or better yet, bring down a boar, or even a petching deer for our petching dinner? Inwardly, Aello groaned before a low rumbling escaped her lips. A throaty growl which emanated in the back of her throat; a sound reminding her of her companion, Nex. She knew as soon as she came back with whatever she brought down, if anything of course, that'd she'd be made to start a fire and cook it. Feed everybody. It was because she was a woman wasn't it? And women were made to be domestics. Cook, clean. Tend to the household. Of course, that household consisted of several assassins, including herself. The tent constantly moved, and as far as she knew, no one was related, or even liked each other in the least. They simply had to tolerate each other while they went about their business. Serving the mighty lord, and god of chaos, Rhysol himself.

The huntress sighed. You hunt because it is well within your capacity. And it was your job, remember, before you fled the floating city? Again, she sighed at that. "Doesn't mean I actually have to feed the petchers, does it?" Aello asked herself, in little more than a whisper. It's not like it matters if one of them starves to death, does it?

A satisfied smirk crossed the girl's lips as she continued walking. Her knees coming towards her chest each time she lifted a foot, so that the leg came high, and she could easily guide her heel over fallen debris- twigs which may snap underfoot, browning leaves, crackling as the wind hit them. Anything which may make noise, and thus, give her position away. There's always circling back if it takes too much longer, Aello thought, as she headed around another series of hardwoods, and tightened her grip on her daggers. The colors leaping from tree to tree, scouting out ahead of her as she made her way along, still looking for that she knew lingered, but had yet to spot, or catch further hint of. Tracks, droppings, broken things where a creature may have tread before.

For a time, she glided along, until her magic illuminated a lightly scratched path. Green paw prints- the shape of an elongated pad, with smaller dots atop, and what appeared a slender line sprouting from each. What the girl assumed to be nails, slight as they were, for the creature was no hunter. Rabbit, she thought, as their auras sparkled, leading her body to draw closer, before the light was snuffed out. More than likely a reflex, to help conserve her energy.

Without her magic's guidance, Aello was forced to keep her eyes pinned on the ground, so that they may follow the shallow indentations the creature had left in its wake. Slowly, they traced the outline, following them as they rounded trees, and ran through leafless shrubberies. Until they led to small puddle, by which she lost them for a moment, forcing her to walk in circles, in all directions, until a time in which she regained the path, a short distance away. She could see the last beads of moisture, sunken into the earth, sunken into the steps the rabbit left behind. A trail next to her own, so as not to tarnish the followed.

Smiling weakly, the girl continued onwards, for several more chimes, until she came to a split in the trees, between which rested the rabbit she had been hunting. She paused, as she bent her legs at the knees, and scrunched her body, crouching lower to the ground as she gingerly side-stepped to the right, and concealed herself behind a nearby oak. Its trunk fat, so as to compensate for her larger form. Her eyes glided over her potential kill, studying its habits. The way it hopped whenever it wished to move. The way its large black eyes seemed to take everything in, the way its dark brown coat helped to conceal it. But not well enough.

Not from her.

Slowly, Aello drew her right hand back as she stepped away from the tree, taking the rabbit in full view. She could see it sniffing the air, its black nose quivering as it looked up and caught sight of her. That's when her arm snapped. Reeling forward as her fingers unfurled, releasing the dagger. It circled through the air, glimmering as the sunlight caught it. A glimpse of gold as it circled, and the rabbit fled, but not quickly enough. The cursed blade caught in its hindquarters, the forced served to help it make its way up to the head. As it moved, Aello caught the metallic smell of blood as the skin severed. Shed. Tufts of it falling, growing matted as life's fluid seeped through.

The girl knew its eyes were glossing over, although she could not see them now. She knew the white film was spreading, its heart was thundering for the last time, and now, it had stopped. The creature collapsed, leading her to come out of hiding, and into the open. The huntress strode easily over to the creature, and tore her weapon from its skin. She wiped the blood that trickled off the edge on the ground, before she sheathed it and the other.

Another moment passed, and she was praying. Thanking Dira for the kill as she plucked it off the ground, and moved over to the nearby trees. She tucked it beneath the protrusion of a root, before moving into the thicket. Retrieving that which had fallen- twigs, leaves, larger branches, before moving back to the site of carnage, the rabbit corpse. When there, she dropped the pile she had gathered on the ground, alongside her things, before she sat. Pulling the branches away, and arranging them against one another. Forming a triangle at first, and then a teepee, as she stacked the remaining bits of wood all around, before piling the kindling at its base. When finished, she dry washed her hands, and pulled her flint and steel from her bag.

She held the flint tightly in the right hand, and the steel in the other. On a diagonal, she pushed her hands towards the site of the fire, before she brought the steel down on her flint. Raking it against it over and over again, until a spark formed. Fireflies, it seemed, flying through the air. Those which failed to catch. So she continued the process, until one did. Sending tendrils of smoke into the air. A crackling sound, as the branches furled, and blackened. Ash lining the base as she put her instruments away, bent down, and blew on what had begun. Fanning it, so that it matured, licking the underside of her wooden teepee.

When she felt its heat growing, and sensed that her eyebrows would soon be singed, Aello pulled her face away from the fire, and retrieved her kill. "Don't need to feed those petchers," she whispered. "They're grown men, they can petching feed themselves," she added as she retrieved her cursed blade, and cut the head away from the rest of the corpse. She tossed it hastily into the bushes, before cutting away each of the legs, leaving a furry middle. This she split from the underside. Cotton ball tail to what remained of a neck. When finished, she ripped at the meat with her hands, bloodying them. She could feel it trickling against her flesh, see it running off as she pulled away small pieces, and then left them atop a body as she retrieved another longer stick, before returning.

Swiftly, Aello skewered the butchered pieces of rabbit flesh, and held them over the fire. Rotating the stick every few chimes, in the hopes that it'd cook more evenly. After about a bell had gone by, Aello pulled the stick back, and realized she had more than singed the edges. Shrugging, she tore the meat off and chewed thoughtfully. Although burnt, the meat was good enough. At least it warmed her.

See, didn't need to feed those bastards at all, she told herself, as she licked her lips and the flames danced across her features.